Georgia Historic Newspapers

    Mill imuMl LI! t SENTINEL,
BY WILLIAM S. JONES.
Orr»CK IW RAIL ROAD BAWK BPILDIWO.
9AILT, TRI-WEEKLY A WEEKLY.
'ffHßNS —Daily Paper, toeity subscribers, per
annum, in advance
Daily Paper, mailed to the country '
Tri-Weekly Paper, « “ “ “ *' \
Weekly (a mammoth sheet) “
CASH SYSTEM. —in no case will an order for
th« paper be attended to »»|«» “'^”',^e W for
sr ’»"'«ript.oa MJ be pmii, expiry before
the receipt of funds to renew the same, the paper
•rill be discontinued. Deprecated funds receded et
value in this city.
From the Home Journal.
Divorce at Josephiae.
Napoleon had become very strongly attach
ed to his little grandchild, the son of Hor
te nee, and of his brother, Louis, the King of
Holland. The boy waiextremely beautiful, and
developed all those noble and spirited traits of
character which delighted the Emperor. Na
poleon had apparently determined to make
this young Prince his heir- This was so gen
erally the understanding, both in France and
in Holland, that Josephine was quite at ease,
and serene days again dawned upon her
heart.
Early in the spring of 1807, this child, upon
whom such destinies were depending, then
five years of age, was seized suddenly and vi
olently with the croup, and in a few hours
died. The blow fell upon the heart of Jose
phine with most appalling power. Deep was
her grief at the loss of the child; she was over
whelmed with uncontrollable anguish in view
of those fearful consequences which she shud
dered to contemplate. She knew that Napo
leon loved her fondly. But she also knew the
strength of his ambition, and that he would
make any sacrifice of his affections, which, in
his view, would subserve the interests of his
power and his glory. For three days she shut
herself up in her loom, and was continually
ba‘hed in tears.
,* The sad intelligence was conveyed to Napo
leon, when he was far from home, in the midst
of the Russian campaign, lie hud been vie
torious—almost miraculously victorious—over
his enemies. He had gained accessions of
E" ower, such as in the wildest dreams of youth
e had hardly imagined. All opposition to his
sway was now apparently crushed. Napoleon
had become the creator of kings, and the
proudest monarchs of Europe were constrain*
ed to do his bidding. It was in an hour of exul
tation that the mournful tidings reached him.
He sat down in silence, buried his face in his
hands, and for a long lime seemed in the most
painful musings. He was heard mournfully
and anxiously to repeat to himself again and
again. “To whom shall I leave all this ?”
The struggle in his mind between his love for
Josephine, and his ambitious desire to found a
new dynasty, and to transmit his name and
fame to all posterity, was fearful. It was man
ifest in his paiid cheek, in his restlessness, in
the loss of appetite and sleep. But the stern
will of Bonaparte was unrelenting in his pur
poses. With an energy which the world has
never seen surpassed, he had chosen his part.
It was the purpose of his soul—the lofty pur
pose before which everything had to bend—to
acquire the glory of making France the most
illustrious, powerful aud happy nation the
earth had ever seen. For this he was ready to
sacrifice comfort, ease ,and his sense of right.
For this be was ready to sunder the strongest
ties of affection.
Josephine knew Napoleon. She knew the
power of his ambition. With almost insup
portable anguish she went over the death of
his child, upon w hose destinies her own seem
ed to be so fearfully blended, and with a trem
bling heart she awaited her husband’s return.
Mysterious hints began to fill the journals of
the contemplated divorce, and of ihe alliance
of Napoleon with various princesses of for
eign courts. In October, 1809, Napoleon re
turned from Vienna. He greeted Josephine
with the greatest kindness, but she soon per
ceievd that his mind was ill at ease, and that
he was pondering the dreadful question. He
appeared sad and embarrassed. He had fre
quent private interviews with his ministers. A
general feeling of constraint pervaded the
Court. Napoleon scarcely ventured to look
upon bis wife, as if apprehensive that the very
sight of one he had loved so well, might
cause him to waver in his firm purpose. Jo
sephine was in a state of the most feverish so
licitude, and yet wascompelled to appear calm
and unconstrained. As yet she had only some
forebodings of her impending doom. She
watched, with the most excited apprehension,
every movement of the Emperor s eye, every
intonation of his voice, every sentiment he ut
tered. Each day some new and trivial indica
tion confirmed her fears. Her husband be
came more reserved ; absented himself from
her society; the private aceess between their
apartments was closed; he now seldom en
tered her room, and whenever he did so inva
riably knocked. And yet not one word had
passed between him and Josophine upon the
fearful subject. Whenever Josephine heard
the sound of his approaching footsteps, the
fear that he wascoming with the terrible an
nouncement of separation, immediately caused
such violent palpitation of the heart, that it
was with the utmost difficulty that she could
totter across the floor, even when supporting
herself by leaning against the walls, and catch
ing at the articles of furniture.
The months of October and November
passed away, and while the Emneror was dis
cussing with his cabinet ihe alliance into which
he should enter, he had not surmn tied cour
age to break the subject to Josephine. The
evidence is indubitable that he experienced in
tense anguish in view of the separation, but
this did not influence bis iron will to swerve
from its purpose. The grandeur of his fame,
and the magnitude of his power, was now
such, that there was not a royal family in Eu
rope which would not have felt honored in
conferring upon him a bride. It was at first
contemplated that he should marry some prin
cess of the Bourbon family, and thus udd to
the stability of the throne, by conciliating the
royalists of France. A princess es Saxony
was proposed. Some weighty considerations
urged an alliance with the majestic empire of
Russia, and some advances were made to the
court of St. Petersburg, having in view a sis
ter of the Emperor Alexander. It was at
length decided that proposals should be made
to the court of Vienna, for Marie Lonise,
daughter of the Emperor of Austria.
At last the fatal day arrived for the announce
ment to Josephine. It was the last day of
November, 1809. The Empress dined at
Fontaiubleau alone. She seems to nave had
a presentiment that her doom was sealed, and
all that day she had been in her retired
apartment weeping bitterly. As the dinner
and 1 t a P pr ® ac hed, bathed her swollen eyes,
| down^.k 10 regain composure. They sat
not speak ° j able L in si,ence - Napoleon did
fe *oi« S «u.,T pbi 5 8 could •>»« her
feigned to Neither of th em even
in, and afler co «”0 was
&-tal paleness revealed the m ° u u ched - A mor
-1 Napoleon, in his embarrassment ““ e ?, ch beart *
I « nd apparently unconsciously ’ “ e e ® ha “ l ? aU J'
Jhe edge of his glass with hi. tVrfV whSf nk i ing
la thought. A more melancholy meil was
probably never witnessed. The aftoL
I "ound the table caught the infection and
I gazed m motionless silence. At last the cere
jkmeDj of dinner was over, the attendants were
m dismissed, and Napoleon and Josephine were
alone. Another moment of most painful
silence ensued, when the emperor, pale as
death, and trembling in every nerve, arose,
and approached Josephine. He took her
band, and placing it upon his heart, said :
“ Josephine ! my own good Josephine (
} yon know how I have loved you. It is to you
, alone that I owe the few moments of happiness
_ l have known in this world. Josephine! my
- destiny is stronger than my own will. My
dearest affections must yield to the interests of
France ! ”
Josephine’s brain reeled, her blood ceased
• to circulate ; she fainted, and fell lifeless upon
the floor. Napoleon alarmed, threw open the
g door of the saloon, and called for help. At
j tendants from the an'e-room immediately en
} tered. Napoleon took a taper from the mantel,
: and uttering not a word, but pale and trem
’ hling, motioned to the Count de Beaumont to
! the Empress into his arms. She was
r st *ll unconscious of every thing, but began
, to murmur, intones of angush, “Oh, no!
r you cannot surely do it. You would not kill
t me.”
The Emperor led the way through a dark
i passage to the private staircase which conducted
to the apartment of the Empress. The agi
tation of Napoleon seemed now to increase.
He uttered some incoherent sentences about
a violent nervous attack; and finding the
' stairs too steep and narrow for the Count de
. Beaumont to bear the body of the lifeless Jose
- phine unassisted, he gave the light to an atten
dant, and supporting her limbs himself, they
reached the door of the bedroom Napoleon
then dismissing his male attendants, and laying
Josephine upon her bed, rang for her waiting
women. He hung over her with an expres
sion of the most intense affection and anxie
ty, until she began to revive. Bat the moment
consciousness seemed returning ha left the
room. Napoleon did not even throw himself
upon his bed that night. He paced the floor
until the dawn of the morning. The royal
surgeon, Corvisart, passed the night at the
bedside of the Empress. Every hour the
restless, yet unrelenting Emperor, called at
her door to inquire concerning her situation.
“On recovering from my swoon,” says
Josephine, “ I perceived that Corvisart was in
attendance, and my poor daughter, Hortense,
weeping over me. No !no ! 1 cannot describe
the horror of my situation during that night.
Even the interest As affected to take in my
1 sufferings, seemed to me additional cruelty.
How much reason had I to dread becoming an
Empress ! ”
A fortnight now passed away, during which
Napoleon and Josophine saw but little of
each other. Daring this time there occurred
the anniversary of the coronation, and of the
, victory of Austerlitz. Paris was filled with
rejoicing. The bells rang their merriest peels.
Tne metropolis was refulgent with illumina
-1 tions. In these festivities Josephine was com
pelled to appear. She knew that the sove
reigns and princes then assembled in Fans
were informed of her approaching disgrace.
In all these sounds of triumph she heard but
the knoll of her own doom. And though a
' careful observer, in her moistened eye and her
pallid cheek would have observed indications
of the secret woe which was consuming her
heart, her habitual affability and grace never
in public for one moment forsook her. Hor
tense, languid and sorrow stricken, was with
her mother. Eugene was also summoned
from Italy by the melancholy duly attending
the divorce. From the saloon he wentdiiecily
to-the cabinet of Napoleon, and inquired of
the Emperor if he had decided the question
of a divorce from his mother. Napoleon,
who was most strongly attached to Eugene,
made no reply, but pressed his hand as an ex
pression that it was so. Eugene withdrew his
hand, and said :
“ Sire ! in that case permit me to withdraw
from your service.”
“ How,” exclaimed Napoleon sadly, ‘ will
you, Eugene, my adapted son, leave me? ”
“ Yes, sire,” Eugene firmly replied. “ The
son of her who is no loger Empress cannot
remain Viceroy. 1 will follow my mother
. into her retreat. She must now find her con
solation in her children.”
Napoleon was not without feelings. Tears
filled his eyes. In a mournful voice, tremulous
with emotion, he replied :
“ Eugene, you know the stern necessity
which compels this measure. And will you
forsake me? Who then, should 1 have a son,
theobjsctof my desire, and preserver of my
interest—who would watch over the child
when lam absent ? Who will bring him up ?
Who is to make a man of him ? ”
Eugene was deeply affected, and taking
Napoleon's arm, they retired, and covered a
long time together. The noble Josephine,
ever sacrificing her own feelings to promote
the happiness of others, urged her son to re
main the friend of Napoleon. ** The Emper
or,” she said, “is your benefactor—your
more than father, to whom you are indebted
for every thing, and to whom, therefore, you
owe a boundless obedience.”
The fatal day for the consummation of the
divorce at length arrived. It was the fifteenth
day of December, eighteen hundred and nine.
Napoleon had assembled ail the kings, princes,
and princesses, who were members of the im
perial family, and also the most illustrious offi
cers of the empire, in the grand saloon of the
Tuileries. Every individual present was
oppressed with the melancholy grandeur
of the occasion. Napoleon thus addressed
them:
‘ The political inte eats of my monarchy,
the wishes of my people, which have constant
ly guided my actions, require that 1 should
trransmit to an heir inheriting my love lor the
people, the throne on which Providence has
placed me. For many years I have lost all
hopes of having children by my beloved
spouse, the Empress Josephine. It is this con
sideration which induces me to sacrifice the
sweetest affections of my heart, to consult on
ly the good of my subjects, and desire the dis
solution of our marriage. Arrived at the ago
of forty years, J may indulge a reasonable
hope of living long enough to rear, in the
spirit of my own thoughts and disposition, the
children with which it may please Providence
to bless me. God knows what such a de
termination has cost my heart; but there is no
sacrifice which is above my courage when it
is proved to be the interests of France. Far
from having any cause of complaint, I have
nothing to say. but in praise of the attach
ment and tenderness of my beloved wife. She
has embellished fifteen years of my life, and
the remembrance of them will be forever en
graved on my heart. She was crowned by
my hand. She shall retain always the rank and
title of Empress. Above all/lot her never
doubt my feelings, or regard me but as her best
and dearest friend.”
Josephine, her eyes filled with tears, with a
faltering voice, replied :
“I respond to all the sentiments of the Em
peror, in consenting to the dissolution of a
marriage which henceforth is an obstacle to
the happiness of France, by depriving it of
the blessing of being one day governed by the
descendants of that great man, evidently rais
ed up by Providence to efface the evils of a
terrible revolution, and to restore the altar, the
throne, and social order. But his marriage
will, in no respect, change the sentiments of my
heart. The Emperor will ever find in raa his
beat friend. I know what this act, command
ed by policy and exalted interests, has cost his
heart ; but we both glory in the sacrifices we
make for the good of our country. I feel
elevated in giving the greatest proof of attach
ment and devotion that was ever given upon
earth.”
Such were the sentiments which were ex
pressed in public. But in private Josephine
surrendered herself to the unrestrained domi
nion of her anguish. No language can depict
the intensity of her woe. For six months she
wept so incessantly that her eyes were nearly
blinded with grief. Upon the ensuing day the
Council were again assembled in the grand
Ba '°®. n » t 0 witness the legal consummation of
the divorce. The Emperor entered the room
dressed m the imposing robes of -tate, but pal
lid, care-worn and wretched. Low tones of
fi!IL C^ harmoniZ,r lf with lhe mournful scene,
a P°* eon » apart by himself,
leaned against a pillar, folded his arms upon
ms breast, and in perfect silence, apparently
lost in gloomy thought, remained motionless
as a statue. A circular table was placed in the
centre of the apartment, and upon this ibere
was a writing apparatus of gold. A vacant
arm chair stood before the table. Never did
a multitude gaze upon the scaffold, the block,
or the guillotine, with more awe than the as
sembled lords and ladies in this gorgeous saloon
contemplated these instruments of a more
dreadfal execution.
At length the mournful silence was inter
rupted by the opening of a side door, and the
entrance of Josephine. The palor of death
was upon her brow, and the submission of
despair nerved her into a temporary calmness,
She was leaning upon the arm of Hortense,
who, not possessing the fortitude of her moth
er, was entirely unable to control her feelings,
but immediately upon entering the room, burst
into tears, and continued sobbing most con
vulsively. The whole assembly rose upon
the entrance of Josephine; all were moved to
tears. With that grace which ever distinguish
ed her movements, she advanced silently to a
seat provided for her. Sitting down, and
leaning her forehead upon her hand, she lis
tened to the reading of the act of separation.
Nothing disturbed the silence of the scene but
the sobbings of Hortense, blended with the
mournful tones of (he reader’s voice. Eugene,
in the meantime, had taken a position by his
mother’s side. Silent tears were trickling
down the cheeks of the Emperor.
As soon as the reading of the act of separa
tion was finished, Josephine for a moment
pressed her handkerchief to her weeping eyes,
and then rising, in clear and musical, but tre
mulous tones, pronounced the oath of ac
ceptance. She then sat down, took the pen
and affixed her signature to the deed which
sundered the dearest hopes and the fondest ties
which human hearts can feel. Poor Eugene
could endure this language no longer. His
brain reeled, his heart ceased to beat, and *he
fell lifeless upon the floor. Josephine and
Hortense retired with the altendaiats, who bore
out the insensible form of the affectionate son
and brother. It was a fitting termination of
this mournful but sublime tragedy.
But the anguish of the day was not yet over.
Josephine, half delirious with grief, bad ano
ther scene still more painful to pass through,
in taking a final adieu of him who had been
her husband. Josephine remained in her
chamber in heartrending speechless grief, until
the hour in which Napoleon usually retired for
the night. The Emperor, restless and.wretch
ed, had just placed himself in (he bed from
which he had ejected his most faithful and de
voted wife, and the attendant was on the point
of leaving the room, when the private door of
his apartment was slowly opened, and Jose
phine tremblingly entered. Her eyes were
swollen with grief; her hair disheveled, and
she appeared in all the dishabille of unuttera
ble anguish. She tottered into the middle of
the room, and approaching the bad—then, ir
resolutely stopping, she burst into a flood of
tears. A feeling of delicacy seemed for a mo
ment to have arrested her steps —a conscious
ness that now she had no right to enter the
chamber of Napoleon—but in another moment
all the pent up love of her hear, burst forth,
and, forgetting everything, she threw herself
upon the bed, clasped her arms around Napo
leon’s neck, and exclaiming, “ My husband !
my husband !” sobbed as though her heart was
breaking,
The imperial spirit of Napoleon was for a
moment entirely vanquished, and he also wept
almost convulsively. He assured Josephine
of his love, of ardent and undying love. In
every way he tried to soothe and comfort her,
and for some time they remained locked in
each other’s embrace. The attendant was dis
missed, and for a i hour they continued in this
last private interview. Josephine, then in the
experience of an anguish which few hearts
have ever known, parted forever from, the
husband whom she had so long, so fondly, and
so faithfully loved.
The beautiful palace of Malmaison, which
Napoleon had embellished with every possible
attraction, and where the Emperor and Em
press had passed many of their happiest hours,
was assigned to Josephine for her future resi
dence. Napoleon also settled upon her a join
lure of about six hundred thousand dollars a
year. She was still to retain the title and rank
of Empress Queen.
The ensuing day, at eleven o’clock, all the
household of the Tmlieries were assembled up
on the grand staircase and in the vestibule, to
witness the departure of their beloved mistress
from scenes where she had so long been the
brightest ornament. Josephine descended,
veiled from head to foot. 'Her emotions were
too deep for utterance, and she waived an
adieu to the affectionate and weeping friends
who surrounded her. A close carriage, with
six horses, was before the door. She entered
it, sank back upon the cushion, buried her face
in her handkerchief, and left the Taiiieries for
ever.
Cuban News.— Tho New York Sun has
“important news from Cuba,” and says:
“We were yosterday allowed the pleasure
of witnessing a sight well calculated to atir a gen
erous glow m the heart of the coldest and most
indifferent—almost to ‘create a soul bsueath
the ribs of death.’ It was a large quantity of
women’s jewelry and trinkets, collected by the
ladies of Cuba, and sent by them to the Cuban
Junta in this country, to aid in bringing arms
and ammunition for the liberation of their op
pressed country.”
The intention of the Junta, wo understand,
in regard to these jewels, and the rest which
will follow, is rather to borrow money on a
pledge of them, redeemable at a future day.
than to dispose of them by sale —looking for
ward to the time when they will trrasured
in worthy places of public the Cap
ital of Cuba, as the fitting regalia, or ‘crown
jewels,’ of the liberated Republic.”
There are four boxes of diamonds, pearls,
precious stones, brilliants, gold bracelets and
chains, necklaces, <fec. &c. The Sun adds:
“These articles, which we have seen with
our own eyes, and handled with our own
hands, are the contribution of the women of
only one single town-****"***— whosn total
population is not more than twenty or thirty
thousand inhabitants. The same operation is
extending all over the islhnd, and in many
other places the patriotic girl* and matrons of
Cuba are carrying out the same noble move
ment, and it will not be long before a million of
dollars will be raised in this manner, and sent
to the United Slates.”
It may not be improper to reflect after read
ing the above, that the organ of marvelousnces
is well developed on the cranium of the New
York Sun, and that it has a particular fancy
for “running saws ” With this simple remark
we give the paragraph for what it is Worth.
[Ed. Chron. & Skn.J
Marins Disasters.— The vessel reported,
as having been seen in Stono River, on Sun
day last, by Capt. Peck, of the steamer Meta
mora, proves to be the Br. brig Minerva,
Mark, 16 days from Montego Bay, (Ja.,) for
Glasgow, with a cargo of Rum, Sugar, &c.
Having experienced very heavy weather
about the 10th inst., which caused the brig to
leak bad, when she bore away for this port,
to be repaired. On Saturday last in a thick
f°fs» f? ot ashore on Stono reef, which they
succeeded in thumping the vessel over into
the river. Capt. Mark arrived in this city
yesterday, to procure assistance, and we learn
that the steamer Massasoit, has been chartered
to proceed to her relief, and tow her to the city
The schr. S. M. Waen, previously reported
in the otfing, is ashore on Folly Island Beach.
We have received no particulars from her.—
Charleston Courier.
Arrival of the Southerner. —Too steam ship
Southerner, Capt. Dickinson arrived at this
port early yesterday morning, from New York,
< having left at her usual hour on Saturday after
noon.
Our New York correspondent of the Com
mereial Advertiser, Express, and Courier if
Enquirer, have favored us with files of their la
test papers.— Ch. Cour.
tflircmiclc and Sentinel.
iiUGUSTaTg A •
THURSDAY MORNING FEB, 90.
Disunion in Alabama,
As a a part of the history of the times, we
publish the Preamble and Resolutions adopted
by the Disunion Convention, recently assem
bled at Montgomery, Ala, to which we invite
the readers’ attention, as evidence of the pur
pose of the actors, and those with whom they
are associated under the misnomer of Friends
of Southern Rights, to dissolve the Union,
No man who reads this document can doubt
as to the purposes and objects, either of those
who put them forth, or those who sympathize
with them:
PREAMBLE AND RESOLUTIONS ADOPTED
by thb Southern Rights Comvbhtion.
The preamble to the Constitution of the United
States deilares the objects for which the government
of the United States was formed. Those objects
were “to form a more perfect Union, establish jus
tice, ensure domestic tranquility, provide for the
common defence, promote the general welfare, and
secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our
posterity.”
Those objects, in our opinion, have been wilfully
disregarded in the administration of the government
—commencing with the law admitting Missouri into
the Union, and closing with the late system of mea
sures, miscalled the Compromise.
The pretence upon which this system of hostile le
gislation has been based, is that slavery is a moral
and political evil—its end and aim the emancipa
tion of every slave in the United States.
The go vernment is in the hands of a sectional ma
jority, and political interests and conscientious con
victions of duty alike urge them to the successful
prosecution of this system.
Believing that the aim in the formation of this go
vernment is no longer to bo observed in its adminis
tration, we, the delegates of the Southern Rights As
sociations of Alabama, in Convention assembled, do
resolve—
General Government by the people of the States,
have for a long series of years, been perverted by a
dominant, sectional majority to the aggrandisement of
the non-slaveholding—and to the oppression of the
slaveholding States.
# 2. That in our opinion, powers have been exer
cised by the General Government for the purpose of
restraining the extension of the institution of slavery,
and of eradicating it in places where it now exists,
which were not granted to it by the people of the
States.
3. That in our opinion, a radical change has been
effacted in the character of the General Government
by tho success of this system of legislation ; that the
power and dignity of the Union have become de
structive, in a very great degree, of the rights and
dignity of the States which created it.
5. That a tame submission to or a patient acqui
escence in this hostile and unconstitutional legisla
tion wou d not, in our opinion, be conducive to the
peace, happiness, prosperity and honor of the South
ern States.
5. That we fully endorse the doctrine of Mr. Ma
dison, as contained in the Virginia resolutions of 1T93,
“ that in case of a deliberate, palpable, dangerous ex
ercise of power not granted by the federal compact,
the States who are parties thereto, have the right,
and are in duty bound to interpose for arresting the
evil, and maintaining in their respective limits the
authorities, rights and liberties appertaining to them.”
6. That such interposition should not be myde, sc
long as I lere remains a reasonable hope that full and
ample redress will be made for past injury, and pro
vision be made against fatnre aggression. c
7. That recent events, in full unison wfth that
system of legislation which we have condemned, as
sure us that there is no reasonable ground on whicia
to base a hope that we shall obtain either redress for
the past, or guaranties for the future.
8. That in our opinion, a due regard for the
honor and interest of the people of this S ate, and
each ot the Southern States, demands that they
should at once “set their house in order” with a
view to accession.
9. That each State voluntarily became a member
of the confederacy, so it can be no just cause of war
upon any State, that chaoses no longer to remain a
member thereof.
10. That the question of the secession of Alabama
from this government is reduced to that of time only.
11. That we approve of the proposition of the
Nashville Convention, that the slaveholding States
hold a Congress in November next, and pledge our
selves to use our best exertions to have Alabama ful
ly represented in that body, and concur in the sug- 1
gestion that said Congress be held in Montgomery.
12. That we recommend to the people of Alabama
to suspend their old party divisions until redress and
security can be obtained as proposed, and to know
no party but the great Southern party.
13. That the Governor of Alabama be requested
to convene the Legislature in extra session for the
election of members to the proposed Southern Con
gress ; such called session to take place after the first
Monday 1 in August next. Should the Governor fail
to convene the Legislature, tnen we recommend to
the various precincts composing the several Congres
sional Districts to open a poll on the first Monday in
October next, and hold an elect on for one member
to represent each Congressional District in the State ;
such election tone in ail things governed by the laws,
usages and regulations which govern elections for
members of Congress.
14. Tint should Congress declare it to be the
duty ofthe Southern States to secede and one or more
of the S tates shall secede ; or if one or mot e of the
States should do so without such action by the South
ern Congress, in our opinion it will be the Juty and
interest of A abama, and good faith to such seceding
State or Stales require her likewise to secede, and to
use all proper efforts to the formation of a Southern
Confederacy.
15. fiiaiin order to render ourselves more effec
tive in sustaining these views, we will separate our
selves from all old federal party organizations, aud
that we will cultivate the doctrine of State reliance,
and oxert all the agencies in our power, political, in
dustnal, commercial, social and educational, to pre
pare the State for that crises which federal policy,
perverted and distorted by the anti-slavery spirit
has forced us to contemplate.
t earing the effect of such an open avowal
of their real sentiments, upon the public mind
in Alabama, the Advertiser, a most zealous ad
vocate of disunion, sought to soften down their
effect by the following paragraph:
“We have no room for comment to-day, if any
were necessary. The resolutions speak plainly for
themselves, so that every one can fully comprehend
them. Some few of them created a division among
ourselves, and therefore it would have been best not
to have past them through. They are not intended
however, we presume, as a platform for the Southern
Rights men throughout the State, but rather as an
expression of opinion by the delegates assembled
here, representing the various Clubs of the State
now formed. In this light, we suppose, they will be
viewed; so that our friends can reject or adopt such
portions of them as they may think proper, without
detriment to the great cause which we all have so
much at heart.”
This insinuation that the preamble and reso
lutions were only intended for Buncomb, and
not as the platform of the party in Alabama,
was quite too grave a charge for the sensitive
leaders of the faction: hence the Editor was
waited on with the following “ Card," from
the leaders, bead men and warriors of the Con
vention, which appeared in his paper the next
day:
A Card. The undersigned, membeis of the late
Convention of Southern Rights Clubs, held in this
place, were surprised to find ia an Editorial of the
“Advertiser and Gazette” of to-day, the followin*
language m reference to the Resolutions forming the
platform adopted by that body; 6
“ ar ® no } »«te«ded, however, we presume,
as a platform for the Southern Rights men throughout
the State, but rather as an expression of opinion by
the delegates assembles here representing the various
Clabs of the State now formed. In this light, we
sups »e, they will be viewed; so that our friends
can reject or adopt such portions of them as they may
think proper, without detriment to the great cause
which we all have so much at heart.”
f^ e w ? w well acquainted with the views
o the Convention, and believe the “ Advertiser and
Gazette is mistaken in the statement that the Re
solutions of the Convention were not intended “ as a
platform f or the Southern Rights man throughout
the State. They were the result of much effort,
distinctly to establish a Southern Rights platform
for the Southern Rights men of Alabama, and
were adop ed with remarkable unanimity as such.
(Signad)—Thomas Williams, President S. R. C.;
Adam Felder, Secretary ; J. A . Elmore, A. Perry
man, A Gayle, Samuel P Rice, J. H.
Campbell, T. J. Peyampert, Wm. L Yancev J J
Woodward, Jefferson Noble H. W.Lafid Wm h!
Anderson, and E. Harrison. ’ *
Here was indeed not only a 11 surprise,” but
a wide difference in the opinions ofthe leaders
and their organ, as to whether the proceedings
were to be regarded in a “Pickwickian sense,”
or a« expressing not only the real sentiments
of the Convention, but of all those who sym
pathise with them in Alabama. And although
the Gazette endorses tho sentiment of the re
solutions, yet from prudential motives and an
enlarged and grasping philanthropy, excited
perhaps by the hope the better to gall the
people, be has no idea of endorsing such a
Procrustean platform. Hence he rejoices in
the following rather tart strain, in which he
very unwittingly discloses the character ofthe
Convention, its composition, and how a large
portion of the good people of Alabama were
represented therein:
“ We weie much surprised on receiving the above
communication, about the lime of going to press last
evening. We regret very much, of comse, that there
should be a diversity of opinion as regards what were
the objects of the Convention in adopting the resolu
tions referred to. It is certainly very true that we
did not converse with a single individual upon the
paint in dispute, before we penned the article a’ludei
to, but we were simple enough to take it for granted
(and we should regret much if we were mistaken,
though we do not say that we arc not, after this com
munication signed by many of our personal and par
ty friends,) that the very lew counties represented
had not nndertaken to speak for the entire Southern
Rights men throughout the State. But eleven coun
ties were represented— out of Jifty-two in the State—
many of them very partially. I caving out Montgo
mery, Lowndes and Dallas, there were but twenty
two delegates from the balance. (We mention these
things “in sorrow.”) Surelyj then, we had some
reason for our opinion, that they were not intended
as a platform for the Southern Rights party through
out the State.
“ But if these resolutions are to be the bed of Pro
crustes, and every Southern man whom it does not fit
is to be stretched or lopped off, then, gentlemen, we
fear that although you and we may lie down upon it,
we shall have very few bod fellows. In other words,
are we to discard every Southern man who will not
subscribe to the platform laid down by this Conven
tion? We tell you plainly, gentlemen, you may,
but we shall not. Let us not be misunderstood —we
do not abate one iota of our zeal and devotion to the
cause of the South, So far as the principles enun
ciated in the resolutions are concerned, we concur
with them, and would even go further if we could ;
but what we object to is, this lopping off every man
who will not subscribe to this platform. We have
heretofore declared our willingness to take every
man by the hand who was opposed to submission
and in favor of resistance.
“We have frankly expressed the opinion, to which
we still adhere, that we could see no effectual reme
dy for evils past, present and future, short of seces
sion ; but, in the spirit of the Lowndesborough reso
lutions, we were willing to show some “ deference
to those who admit our wrongs, but advocate a mild,
er form of resistance,” and were ready, in the lan
guage of that Club. “ without compromising our pre
lerence for the remedy above indicated, to co-operate
in any plan of non-intercouse, however stringent,
having for its object the redress of Southern wronys.”
Such has been oar course in the past—such shall b mr
course in future, the Montgomery Convention plat
form to the contrary notwithstanding.”
Position or Free States.—The “ lev
land Democrat ,” a very stiff free soil sheet,
gives the following as the position o- twelve
free states on the slavery question ;
“ Iswa—For the compromise.
Wisconsin—All for peace sad rescinding the res
olutions passed in ’43, instructing Senator Walker
to resign or vote for the proviso.
Illinois—Pro slavery cut and out, and Senator
Shields, elected as a free soiler, changing front.
Indiana—All for the compromise, and re-election
Mr. Bright U. S. Senator !
Ohio—For Gen. Cas,?/
Michigan—Servile to the lowest degree.
Pennsylvania—Electing as U. S. Senator Brodl
head. as rank a pro-slavery mao ns can be found.
New Jersey—For the compromise in all it? parts.
Connecticut—Compromise and peace.
Massachusetts—Governor elected by the votes of
i free soilers, and as boldly pro-slavery as can be.
New Hampshire—Utterly servile.
Maine —For the compromise.”
This classification of tho twelve free States,
by a Free Soil organ, will doubtles astonish if
not interest some of those Southern readers
who are accustomed to hear the whole of the
Free Slates, charged with a disposition to
make aggressions upon the South and her insti
tutions. The fact ia, there is about as much
truth in the statement of the Freesoiler as. in
thitof his Southern ally, the Disunionist.
Neither states facts, for the obvious reason that
the promulgation of truth on this question
w uld blast all hope or prospect of accom
plishing this common object, the dissolution of
the Union
Damage to the State Road. — A rumor
reached this city yesterday morning that 300 foot
of tho Bridge on the Western and Atlantic rail
road over the Oostenaula river, had been car
ried away by the late freshet. On enquiry,
however, eo indefinite were the accounts, that
we were unable to determine whether it \v».s
the Bridge or the trussel work at the end. that
had been carried off. This mornings train wi 11
bring definite information.
Telegraph to Chattanooga. —We ob
serve by the Chattanooga Gazette, that ar
rangements are now in progress to establish a
line of Telegraph from Atlanta to that place.
Exchange.—The Banks yesterday advanced
the rate of Exchange on the North to £ per cent,
premium.
Albany, seb. 14.—The trial of the alleged
robbers of the Albany Post Office has been
brought to a close. Gaylord s case was given
to the Jury at noon. About 4 o’clock they cai me
in with a verdict of guilty. Judge Conckli ag
sentenced Pemberton, who turned States’ e vi
dence, to two years imprisonment; Bramhidl,
who was previously convicted, eight years;
and Gaylord eight years. These trials hare
occupied the U. S. Court nearly three weeks,
and will cost government not less than SIO,OOO.
abe Marshalls and Deputy Marshalls haue
been untiring in their exertions to bring abo ut
this result, being satisfied of the guilt of the
accused
Washington, Feb. 14.—Chancellor Walwoi ah,
to whom the Supreme Court referred the ques
tion as to the bridge being an obstruction to
the navigation ofthe Ohio River, has at length
reported. He states, that, from the evideti ce
taken in the case, he decides the bridge to be
an obstruction, and recommends tb at it be rais sd
twenty-eight feet.
SITUATION WANTED.
An KXCBSLLBSNT Washer and Child’s-
Nurse, wishes a situation either in a Hotel or
private family. Apply at this office. fe!B-2*
TO HIRE,
A GOOD Cook and Washer. Apply to
te!B-3t JOSiAH SIBLEY.
OIL-A superioi article f ln Basket *s
and Barrels, just received by
i* 2B WM. JH* TUTT,
From the New York Herald, of Saturday.
NEWS BY THE AFRICA.
The British steamship Africa, Capt. Ryrie,
arrival at 9 o'clock last night, with the joyful
intelligence of the safety of the eteamehip Atlantic*
The Africa left Liverpool at 11 o’clock A.
M. on the Ist inst.
Annexed ia an account of the accident to the
Atlantic, from Lieut. Shuleldt, the gentlemanly
first officer of the A.:
ACCOUNT OF THE PASSAGE AND
SAFETY OF THE STEAMSHIP ATLABTIC.
R. M. Steamer Africa, Feb. 13, 1851.
In order to prevent garbled itatements of
the recent accident to the Atlantic from obtain
ing publicity, I take the liberty of sending you
a correct narrative of facts, compiled from her
log, and for which I cun personally vouch.
The Atlantic loft Liverpool on the 28th De
cember, in fine steaming condition, and with
ou tany apprehension on the part of her offi
cers in regard to the voyage. It was blowing
a strong gale at the time of depanure, from
W. S. VV., so ranch sc as to render it im
possible to land her pilot. On the 29th Dec.,
at 930 P. M., she passed Cape Clear, and
fairly commenced her homeward passage by
plunging at once into a heavy head ses, and
stemming strong westerly gales, which con
tinued without intermission for the time
following up to the day of the accident. On
the 6 h of Jan., at noon, she was in la'. 40 12,
long. 41 W , it blowing string gales from VV.
N. W. t At 630 P. M, the engines were
stopped, as it was first supposed by the en
gineers on account of the breaking of the
eccentric strap to the starboard engine—and,
on examination, it was determined to go ahead
again, working that engine by hand ; but an
other revolution of the wheels proved that the
accident was of a more serious na ure —
The main shaft was found broken eompler.e
ly through, (in a diagonal direction,) the bear
ing of the starboard pillar block, and the ad
ditional turn afer the first stoppage caused
one part of the shaft to lap over the other
thus fracturing both pillar biecks, and render
ing the engines perfectly useless. The ship
was at once hove to under storm canvass, the
wheels lashed, and all hands employed daring
the night, and for the following day, in send
ing up her square yards, and stripping her
wheels of the floats—a task at once difficult
and dangerous in a gale of wind, and the
decks covered with ice, but fortunately accom
plished without accident. On the 7th and Bth
laying-to, with tbe hope of an abatement of
the gale and a change of wind, as the captain
and ail hands w ere extremely anxious to reach
some port on our own coast. On the 9th the
wind hauled to the northwest, and became
quite moderate. Immediately made sail, and
shaped acourse for Halifax, 897 miles distant,
and New York 1,400. This weather coniin
ued until meridian of the 10th, when an ob
servation placed the ship ISO miles south and
70 miles west of her position at the time of the
accident. A gale now sprung up again from
the southwest, and it became necessary to
heave the ship to ; for even with moderate
weather it was evident to all that she could da
nothing by the wind under canvas. At BA.
M., of the 11th, a large ship passed, bound to
the eastward ; but she either did not see or
took no notice of our signal of distress. At
10 P. ML, after taking an accurate account of
stores on board, and considering the apparent
impossibility of reaching home with the ship
in her disabled condition, the captain deter
mined, with the assent of his officers and pas
sengers, to bear up for the coast of Europe—
which was accordingly done. From this time
to the twenty-second day nothing of impor
tance occurred. Wo had following gales and
high seas, and the ship made an average dis
tance of 150 miles per day, and in that inter
val ran 1,400 miles. At 3 P. M. of ’he 22d
she anchored in Cork harhor, which fact alone,
when considering the immense size of the
ship, her small spars, light canvass, and heavy
machinery, is sufficient to prove her a splen
did seaboat, and must add. in no small degree,
to the reputation already acquired by her
commander for prudence aud seamanship.
In regard to the conduct of ber passengers
under such trying circumstances, too much
could scarcely be said. Suffice it that they
bore the misfortune with becoming fortitude
and cheerfulness, and testified, on leaving,
her at Cork, as much sympathy as those who
have a more permanent interest in the good
old Atlantic. The Atlantic had on board 550
tons of freight, and a considerable quantity
of specie, which the Cambria was chartered to
bring over, and probably sailed ftom Cork on
the 4th inst, direct for New York Before
the Africa left, arrangements were making to
tow the Atlantic to Liverpool, for the pur
pose of being repaired. This will possibly
require three months.
Toe Africa brings her mails and passengers.
11. VV. Shcfeldt, Chief Officer.
From the London Illustrated News, teb. 1.
The Atlantic, it appears, took ber departure
from Liverpool wi.h the ordinary mails, a con
siderable cargo, and twenty eight passengers.
After passing Cape Clear, the steamer encoun
tered a continuance of severe weather, with
the wind blowing hard from the west, which,
it is unnecessary to say, was directly against
the course in which ber port of destination liei_3
Though the wind, at intervals, rose to the vio
lence of a hurricane, tbe Atlan'ic steadily pur
sued her way until Monday, the 6th January,
when the wind came on moderately from the
northwest; and in a few hours after, the main
shaft of the engine suddenly snapped, and the
engines were consequently disabled. At this
time the vessel was about midway between
Cape Clear and New York; and. after the ne
cessary precautions bad been taken to secure
the machinery from any farther injury, it was
determined to steer for Halifax; bat it was
found, that, from the quarter from which the
wind was blowing, it would be impossible to
make that port, and the ship’s course was al
tered for Bermuda. The vessel then proceed
ed towards the above island, which course she
pursued until 12ib, when the wind again came
round to S. V,., and it was found useless to per
severe. The efficient commander ofthe Allan
tic, Captain West, then determined to steer lor
a European port, and with engines so disabled
as to bo totally useless with a vessel only
slightly adapted for sailing purposes, he sue
ceeded in navigating the Atlantic, from a dis
tance of over fifteen hundred triles, in safety
into the port of Queenstown. The Atlantic
was deserted off the harbor at an early hour
on Wednesday morning, the 22d ult; and, as
she appeared to be partially disabled, two of
the river steamers went out to offer their assis
tance; but the offer was declined, and the ves
sel entered tbe harbor a few hours after.
The injury which the Atlantic baa sustained,
in addition to the breaking of the shaft, is con
fined to the loss of her bowsprit aud jibboom,
together with much damage to the paddle
wheels and boxes, those at the starboard side
especially being almost completely destroyed.
We regret to state, also that one ofthe fire
men bad his leg fractured by a portion of the
broken machinery.
The passengers have requested the insertion
es the following
Off Cork, Jan. 22, JB5l.
At a meeting of tbe passengers, held on board the
United States mail steamer Atlantic, Mr. James S.
Wadsworth, of New York, being coded to the chair,
and J. H. Pottinger, of Maryland, appointed Secre
tary ; Messrs. Benjamin, of New York; Reese, of
Pennsylvania, and Lawrence, of Mass., wars appoint
ed a committee to draft resolutions expressive of the
sense of the meeting, in view of the circumstances
which have compelled the vessel to return;
Resolved, That we feel it due to Captain West to
acknowledge our gratitude to him for his unwearied
care and devotion to his duty, under circumstances
of great responsibility, (he having been deprived in a
great measure of the valuable and efficient service of
bis first officer, Mr. Shufeldt, by temporary illness)
in bringing the ship safely into port, as well as for tbe
great attention and courtesy with which he labored
to promote the happiness and comfort of those under
his care.
Resolved, Thai we feel it likewise due to the pro
prietors of the ship to bear testimony to the great
- .